


Little Boy Blue

by 9CatLives



Category: One Piece
Genre: Ace Lives, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: Still Have Powers, Asexual Relationship, Asexuality, Jazz AU, M/M, Musician!Luffy, Powers are kind of downplayed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 21:18:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10648245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/9CatLives/pseuds/9CatLives
Summary: It was the moment he saw him onstage, a grin on his face and a silver trumpet in his hands, that Law knew he couldn't let that man die.Law wanted to regret that.





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rewrite of a ff.net story, Trumpeter, that featured Fem Luffy. This rewrite has a similar setting, but geographically I wrote it with New York City in mind for 'The Blues', Long Island for 'The Grand Line', and the Hamptons for 'The New World', but scaled twice as big and with far more islands. The second chapter will have more of the LawLu moments.

An inconspicuous band had taken root onstage, picking away at mindless notes that built into numb tunes that just sort of hung around in Law’s ear. Law thought he would do something violent if he had to stay longer, but he had agreed to only an hour, if that. He had a practice to attend to, after all.

 

Ever since he had walked in half an hour ago, a respectful distance from his voucher- the woman had hardly noticed, though he did catch her eye sometimes -he had planted himself to nearest wall. A few moments later, he’d picked up a flute of champagne from a passing waiter, and nursed the same glass. He glared at anyone that approached him.

 

A number of faceless women with the general sort of beauty and glamor of an escort had all turned around almost immediately, but most of his rivals had already saddled up to him. Kidd had been as shitty as ever, smirking obnoxiously and ribbing him for a shoot out, practically begging for a war between their crews. Every time he did that Law could feel the individual straws of his patience burn away. It was a near thing, now.

 

Worst of all had been Doflamingo daring to accost him, a smug, playful expression on his lips that instinctively filled Law with hate. The blonde man had been idly looking around the penthouse, no doubt looking for weaknesses he could exploit, when those sunglasses found him. His lips had twitched just a bit, as he sauntered over to Law’s corner. He just about growled at the warlord, Penguin and Shachi taut as a bow beside him.

 

“Easy, easy! Law, your men need to relax,” he said, leaning over him. Law glared, clenching his jaw, but kept his posture unhostile.

 

“What do you want?” he demanded. Doflamingo pouted, taking a long slurp of his wine. “You know what,” he purred, canting his head in mock demure. “Won’t you come back? You’d have so, so much more to gain than with them.” They way his head shifted, Law knew he was looking at his men. Law straightened, his hand out of his pocket and tensed, ready to create a room. Doflamingo held up his hands, placating.

 

“Calm down, won’t you? Not even you would want to risk inciting a conflict _here_ of all places, right?”

 

Law didn’t breath, merely focused on the mental image of everything he was going to do to the bastard when he finally got his ass in seastone shackles, and forced his muscles to relax. He even managed to fold back into the wall, though his glare intensified.

 

“Fine. But don’t you think you should get back to your own _family_?” he ground out. Doflamingo was unconcerned, shrugging. “Sure, sure.” At least he was gone.

 

Law was greatly tempted to leave immediately after that, had even placed his glass of wine on a table, and walked over to the only door. Except, a parade of colorful characters walked in that had Law pausing.

 

Not only did Director in chief Sengoku and Deputy Director Garp stride in, Portgas D. Ace was cuffed between them, with bruises that climbed up his chest, concentrated at a near black spot near the seventh rib down. His right eyelid was swollen shut, blossomed into ruddy sort of violet, and blood flaked down from his nostrils. Lacerations dotted his skin like freckles. As they turned, Law noticed a few fingers were twisted sharply, some already swollen.

 

Most interesting was Whitebeard and his first lieutenant Marco eating at their heels. They were both stiff, Marco sparing a moment to turn to the crowd with a glare, while Whitebeard remained focused on Portgas’ back.

 

Portgas’ arrest had made quite the splash a few weeks back, publicly known as an infamous gang lieutenant, but he was also a son of Whitebeard’s (biologically Gol D. Rogers if rumors were to be believed). Everyone had been buzzing about the impending war between Whitebeard’s vast circle of allies and the government; even his own Heart crew stocked up on food, blankets, flashlights, radios, and medical equipment. It was too much like preparing for a natural disaster to instill much fear in Law.

 

Whitebeard’s power was not to be taken lightly, though.

 

He recalled the night less than a month ago, when Hancock of all people walked into his clinic with an apparent self inflicted stab wound to her thigh. 3 hours of surgery and 20 stitches later, she practically demanded he accompany her to this party-

 

_“You wanted to make sure I don’t tear anything? You’ll have to come along, male. Think of it as a bonus.”_

 

-Law did not think of it as a bonus. Bonuses were nights he could sleep.

 

The nature of her wound had been mysterious, especially since she didn’t appear suicidal at all, and if she were, Law had no doubt she would have chosen a better method.

 

But, he never _had_ learned the reason for the party.

 

Law slunk back to a wall, watching them closely. They had come in through the main entrance, but they were walking over to a conference room in the back. He figured negotiations hadn’t started yet.

 

Sengoku knocked on a door, and muttered something Law couldn’t hear. The door peeked open, revealing Kuzan, and he promptly swung it wide enough so that the five of them could come in. Law looked around, because he couldn’t be the only person that was seeing this, and found the seven warlords all looking at the group, as well. Jinbei was thoroughly displeased, expected given that he and Portgas had been close friends. Hancock was indifferent, but he’d been hearing whispers that she’d been seen in association with one of his peers, the brother of the Fire Fist…

 

Who was exactly the type of person to crash an event like this.

 

If there was one thing Monkey D. Luffy could do, it was start a fight.

 

Law spun around again, walking to the exit with a bit more haste than was natural. He’d been at Sabaody, had seen Luffy literally punch through social obstacles, had even fought beside him. He was insane. He was _not_ going to care that nearly every person at the party could kill him and his entire gang (who were admittedly just as insane as he was).  

 

“Excuse me. Hello?” Law froze. His eyes flew to the stage.

 

To his complete shock, Luffy was standing in the center of the platform. For a moment, Law had to appreciate the balls it took to stand onstage under these circumstances; how far he’d go for his brother. If he could use that…

 

In place of the group that had just been there were a band of allies Luffy had no doubt assembled on the go. Ivan the revolutionary was on bass, currently a female, but thankfully dressed in a more modest black dress than her usual purple jumpsuit. She stood tall, in the back corner, with Buggy the Clown next to her, sitting behind a drum set. He’d been gaining notoriety for his chop shop, an eccentric man and recently revealed to have been a grunt of Gol D. Rogers’ gang twenty years ago. He wore a rumpled black suit and blue scarf. Finally, there were two former high level lieutenants under Crocodile while Baroque Works had still existed. Bon Clay had combed his hair back, and was dressed in a black suit with a pressed blue dress shirt, not that much could be seen from where he sat at the piano. Mr. 3 wore slacks and a white dress shirt, with the sleeves rolled up. He carried an alto saxophone around his neck.

 

Most surprising was Luffy, who he’d never seen out of a vest, shorts, and sandals, and was so lean he should have looked ridiculous in any formal dress. On the contrary, the suit fit him nicely, making certain places bulkier while highlighting the curve of his back and his small waist. He even had a loose, blue tie that lit up the ensemble.

 

The rest of the crowd was shocked, as well, to see the upstart boss appear as entertainment, but they really couldn’t do anything, unless a boss himself wanted to physically remove them, something that would surely instigate a fight. It was almost-

 

Luffy had managed to _put himself in a stalemate_ that left him able to do a lot, until starting a fight was worth shutting him up. Law suspected this was Ivan’s plot.

 

“Good evening. We’ll start with Comin’ Home Baby,” he said, with a silly smile, and lifted his hand, snapping. The piano started playing a melody, something at a moderate pace with bitter undertones. Law needed to get out, though. This would only escalate, after a few tunes. Maybe they were a distraction, or something, but Law was completely uninvolved in the whole affair.

 

He walked over to the door and pulled the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. Law cursed, and left swiftly, much to his men’s confusion. He returned to his corner, where Penguin leaned in and asked if anything was wrong. Law growled out, “We’re already trapped. If we make a scene, there’ll be fighting. We’ll wait until Luffy and Whitebeard move, and follow them through their exit.” The two looked at each other a moment, resigned, and settled back on either side of him.

 

Luffy started playing then, and Law had to say he was surprised at how skillful he was. Most gangs had cover identities and shops, like Law not only being a legitimate doctor, but also running a legitimate, small time clinic. They ran the organ trade on the side, though, made excruciatingly easy with Law’s power, and did under the table operations for other gangs and even politicians, depending on the illness. Doflamingo was the mayor of an affluent neighborhood in The New World, Hancock ran an immigration office and a number of beauty salons to cover her deep involvement with illegal aliens and prostitution, etc. Luffy had been the most difficult to track, oddly, when Law ordered background checks on all his peers.

 

He didn’t have a driver’s license, a credit card, a job, or even an apartment to his name. It was through a complicated network of his crew that he did everything. He lived with his second in command, Roronoa Zoro; he was driven around by the few members that could; was fed by Sanji, a former Sous chef to Baratie who know ran a bar; and everything was bought through Nami, the apparent accountant of the group, usually with cash.

 

After a month of following the boss around, however, his men reported he spent entire shifts inside a handful of jazz bars that wouldn’t let them in. Luffy had probably figured out he was being followed. It would make sense, now, if he was a musician.

 

Luffy ran up arpeggios, triplets, and scales rapidly, all over the place, as Bon Clay pounded on the piano. They climaxed, and in that moment, chaos exploded throughout the penthouse. Law sighed.

 

There was a dramatic shift in the floor, an extreme tremble in the building that had quite a few falling or catching themselves on a table or chair. Law focused on Hancock, who had to take a knee. She had just gotten off the crutch, and if he had to do another operation because of this fucking fight, Law was going to be pissed.

 

Out of the conference room where the negotiations were taking place exploded an inferno of fire, blue and red. Law splayed his hands, focusing on the figures that ran out, ready to shamble the entire penthouse. A cuffless- but still bruised -Portgas ran out with Marco. They were cut off by Kizaru, and Law opened up a room. He quickly found a few extra pairs of sea stone cuffs in the conference room, and managed to get them onto Kizaru before he could avoid them. Marco blew through him, and they pitched forward, out the glass windows. He shifted elegantly into a vaguely bird shaped mass of flying fire, leaving a cursing Kizaru and a number of shocked observers. Notably, quite a few bosses, allies of Whitebeard, were prepared.

 

A fight broke out between the warlords, the major bosses, and the number of disguised officers. Luffy and his band of misfits quickly set aside their instruments and jumped into the fray. Law remained in his corner, occasionally helping Hancock and making sure she didn’t trip or tear her stitches. He told himself to stay neutral; that would almost ensure being able to duck out without any problems, but at the same time, he didn’t want Luffy to die. Luffy was just the sort of insane that could blow Doflamingo’s entire operation.

 

He helped him a little bit, too.

 

They fought for what was probably a half an hour, all the while shockwaves wracked the building, Whitebeard not pulling any punches. Occasionally the room would be filled with a deathly chill, and some bosses would be frozen to the floor. Then, a noxious heat wave that just as quickly melted the ice. A few times, there was a flash of gold and Kizaru would breeze past everyone, maybe kicking a few people around if he saw them.

 

“Enough!”

 

They all stopped, the penthouse suddenly silent as they all turned to Sengoku. The directors were lined up beside him, and Garp was on his right. Whitebeard was nowhere to be seen.

 

“Whitebeard is dead. You all are under arrest.”

 

That wasn’t going to happen, not if anyone could help it, but the directors quickly formed a perimeter. Any fight or indignity left the gangs at the sight of the most powerful logias in law enforcement. There were some tears, though, for the fallen whitebeard. Law looked for Luffy and Hancock, who were actually right next to each other.

 

If he remembered correctly, Hancock had actually been fighting indiscriminately. Law brushed it off, though, and debated what he should do. He really wanted to stay neutral, but most of his business depended on just about every person in sight. He sighed, quietly. He’d be arrested, too.

 

He made a giant room, one that enveloped the entire building, and through great concentration dispersed the directors, Sengoku and Garp throughout the building. Before anyone could realize why they’d disappeared (besides Doflamingo, who was smirking at him), he shifted his men, Hancock, Luffy and his band, and even their instruments, to the underground parking lot.

 

Penguin and Shachi were at his side immediately, ready to support him should he collapse. Law could feel some blood running down his nose, but that was normal.

 

“What just happened?” Luffy asked Hancock, who was looking at Law. “Torao?” Law cringed at the nickname, but spoke before he changed his mind, or anyone could ask any uncomfortable questions. “We need to leave. Get into your cars; we have to disappear before the directors regroup-”

 

A circle of cement melted from the ceiling a few meters away, a red, gooey mess that meant Akainu. Ivan cursed, and practically threw her bass into a nearby van, with Bon Clay and Buggy completely ignoring the piano and drums (probably borrowed, damn it, but Law didn’t have time to mourn the wasted effort) and hopped into the driver’s seat and shotgun. Mr. 3 and Luffy did run over to pick up their instruments, only for something red hot to slam into Luffy’s chest. He screamed.

 

“Get him into our car!” Law demanded, and ran to the black SUV they’d brought. Through some combined effort, the wax man and the female warlord scooped him up and ran. Penguin fired up the ignition, and Shachi sat next to him while Law squatted in the back, helping carry Luffy inside as Hancock gently pushed him in. Mr. 3 was climbing into the van with the other group. Hancock jumped in beside him, and both cars took off violently for the exit. In their rearview mirror, they saw Akainu, and then a huge blob of blue that Law figured had to be Jinbei.

 

“Jinbei has a Vivre card for Luffy,” Hancock explained, which really posed more questions than answered any. Law ignored them for now, though, and pulled out the emergency kit he kept in all his cars. The molten lava that Akainu had thrown had burned his skin all the way to his muscles before sliding off, leaving a charred mess of his chest. They’d have to scrub him, check for internal damage, treat the burns with salves, dress it-

 

“Is everyone okay?” Law looked up, baffled to see Luffy opening his eyes, though his face was pinched with agony. “Luffy!” Hancock cried, though Law had long started to ignore her confusing attitude shifts. Luffy tried to move, maybe prop himself up on his elbows, and Law pushed him down. “Don’t get up. You’re the only one injured so far, and we believe your… friends were successfully able to escape. Jinbei was fighting Akainu, last we saw.” He was still surprised Luffy hadn’t gone into shock, though. He _was_ a rubber person, so perhaps trauma had a different effect on his cells.

 

Luffy nodded, and relaxed onto the car floor. His eyes fluttered shut again, and his breathing evened out. Law just hoped he stayed asleep, and just to make sure, injected him with a sedative. For the rest of the ride to his clinic, he kept a hand on his neck, monitoring his pulse.

 

Suddenly, he remembered that Luffy’s entire gang had been spread around The Grand Line, leaving no one else capable of caring for him.

 

“Damn,” he chanted, even as he called his team to be ready for a burn victim. Even as they loaded him onto a stretcher, and rushed into the clinic. Even as Law spent hours treating the organs that had been scarred by the lava, and the dozens of other injuries he had been hiding. Even as he collapsed onto the sofa in his office.

 

~~~

 

It was around four in the morning when Law startled awake. It took him only a moment to recognize why. There was a racket of horrified beeping coming from the machines in the recovery room, beside his office, and standing over him was Luffy, looking confused.

 

Law flopped back down onto his couch. Luffy was the last person who’d kill him in a moment of weakness. “Go back to bed. You’ll be fine, but if you rip you stiches I will sedate you,” he promised, preparing himself to get up and reattach the IV and electrodes and BP cuff. He frowned to himself. Shachi should have been watching him. Goddamnit.

 

“I wanted to thank you for helping us,” he said, sincerely. It made Law pause, and look up at him. He’d seen those eyes before, right before he punched that Celestial Dragon. “You shouldn’t be moving,” he tried, more awake now.

 

“I have to find Ace, and make sure he got out okay.” He turned around, and Law lurched out, tugging his wrist back. He almost cringed when he saw the full body wince; instead, he exploited it. “See? You’re in no condition to walk, let alone run around the city. You don’t even know where you are. We’re in a bad neighborhood, where any random mugger could take you, even if you’re a devil fruit user,” he argued, and almost bit his tongue. He shouldn’t be trying so hard for a kid with a deathwish.

 

But he needed him. And this was a great way to ingratiate someone.

 

“But Ace-”

 

“I saw Ace and his friend fly out of a window, and I made sure Kizaru couldn’t stop them. They’re probably holed up in one of Whitebeard’s old safe houses,” he said. Luffy slowly relaxed, and Law watched as the wretched anxiety faded.

 

“Are you sure?” his voice was quiet, but not vulnerable, “Where’s Hancock?”

 

Law nearly snarled at the memory. He sighed, letting Luffy’s wrist drop. “She demanded sticking around until you got out of surgery, so around-” he glanced at the clock face hanging on the wall, “-1:30 she finally left, though her gang had to practically drag her out.” It had been unpleasant to say the least, particularly because she had been scrutinizing every swipe of the scalpel until he snapped, demanding she not order him around or he’d walk out.

 

After that, it was easier to ignore her.

 

Finally, Luffy seemed to sag in defeat, his features tired. “Alright,” he said, and left. Law waited five minutes, and to his great surprise the beeping stopped after two. With a grateful sigh, he relaxed into his couch, and drifted back asleep.

 

~~~

 

The next morning was insanity. It had started out decent enough, with Law mercifully waking up around 9. He had checked his phone and email, and besides some spam, there had been no emergencies or news he had to attend. He even looked at the The Blue Bugle and Channel NW-5’s local stream. There was no news of the fight or the escape of Portgas or even the death of Whitebeard.

 

And then he heard glass breaking.

 

Law ran a hand through his hair and stood up. It sounded like it had been upstairs, in the day clinic, so he hopped up the stairs two at a time. He smelled food. There was a kitchen, for cooking meals for the patients that had to stay for longer than a night. There, Luffy was sitting at the table, stuffing his face with eggs of every persuasion, and the occasional slice of bacon, since that was all they had. Penguin was standing by the stove, looking well rested and almost awed, with an exhausted Shachi on the other end of the table. Bepo had walked in, face marred with comical terror, and had evidently dropped his mug of milk.

 

“B-Boss!” he cried, jumping across the room to tackle him. He grunted, feeling the exact moment that his foot slipped and they tipped onto the ground. His shoulder scraped against a table, luckily weighted so as not to come careening on top of them, and he hissed as his head slammed into the tiled floor. “Bepo…”

 

“Why is Straw Hat Luffy here! I thought he got sent away! Out of town!?” Gently, he reminded himself, Law pushed the bear off of him, and idly checked the wound on his back. It was bleeding. Bepo then continued to freak out, and rushed around for gauze and antibacterial spray. “Bepo,” he repeated, and the bear froze. Luffy was laughing at them, and his other men, slowly coming in for work, were barely holding back chuckles.

 

He stood up, patted away any dirt that might have stuck to his pants- unlikely considering the floors were mopped half a dozen times a day -and opened his mouth.

 

“Luffy? Hello? I heard Luffy was hear!” Someone had slammed open the door, though it shouldn’t have even been open. Law glared over his shoulder, not surprised to see Portgas D. Ace looking around with a half smirk, with his eyebrows buckled in a way that suggested concern. “He’s here,” he growled, and the Fire Fist looked at him sunnily, before prancing closer.

 

“Knock next time,” he said. Portgas glanced at him, “Oh, sorry. Usually I do, but _someone_ who I told _very_ specifically not to get involved nearly got incinerated by Akainu,” and he pulled Luffy up ruthlessly by the collar. Law was immediately up in arms, even though he didn’t notice any reaction from Luffy.

 

“He’s still recovering!” he hissed. Portgas blinked, looking from him, to Luffy. His expression shifted from playful to pissed in half a second. He turned him around, and there were the bandages, peeking underneath the shirt he’d somehow produced and put on. Bleeding through the white material was a small, irregular circle of blood. Law sighed.

 

“Luffy!” Luffy shrugged, completely unconcerned, even exasperated. “What? Look at you! Your fingers are still mangled, and you’re arms-” the younger brother argued, gesturing to the bandaged lacerations. For once, the lieutenant was wearing a full shirt, but his fingers were still purple and taped up, as well as most of his forearms. Portgas had the dignity to look sheepish.

 

“I’m friends with a phoenix guy. I’ll be fine! You on the other hand-”

 

“Is being taken good care of,” Law cut in, walking over to the counter, and leaned into it. He crossed his arms over his chest, like often did when he was talking about patients. Portgas finally looked at him, and then up and down. His eyes narrowed, probably recognizing.“What’s his status?”

 

“He shouldn’t be moving; his body’s working overtime to assist in cleaning and replacing as many of the dead cells as they can. He’ll be staying here for at least another few days,” he said, and quirked an eyebrow at the Fire Fist, daring him to challenge it. Luffy actually looked okay with that, and it was that last glance to his brother that hit the final nail into the coffin.

 

“Okay, alright,” Portgas conceded, and gently hugged his brother. “Thank you so much,” he whispered, ruffling his messy hair. Luffy grinned. “You’re welcome. Don’t ever do that again, though, I had to, um,” Luffy bit his tongue, “I had to go through a lot of people to finally get you out of there.” Portgas had a curious twitch in his face, but left it be.

 

“I’m sure you did. I’ll be having a conversation with Marco about this,” he promised. Luffy frowned. “Marco? Who’s that?” Portgas opened his mouth, before deciding against it. “Don’t worry about it. More importantly, I won’t be coming around until next week. I’ll just track you down if you’re not still here. I- We have to take care of the funeral arrangements.” His voice was raw, which Law could understand. A flitting glance at his men, and they ducked out.

 

Law was slightly annoyed he had to do that in his own establishment, but when he’d lost Cora-sa, he would have appreciated the privacy. “Okay,” Luffy said, and hugged him tight. Portgas slowly returned it, obviously mindful of his injury. “Thanks, lil’ bro,” he muttered, “I’ll see you soon.” And he left.

 

Luffy plopped back down on the chair he’d claimed, and his men scurried back in for some coffee. Law immediately called seniority and claimed two cups for himself. He sipped it, and slid down to sit next to Luffy. “We have to talk,” he said, “And you should get back downstairs. Come on.” The younger boss glanced at him, and then the food remaining. In one horrifying minute he stuffed all that was left into his mouth until his cheeks swelled to the size of basketballs. He swallowed before Law even realized the issue of choking. It went down without a problem.

 

It was way too early to deal with Luffy.

 

Still, he forged along, leading the man back downstairs and to his bed. Luffy was petulant for a solid minute, glaring at the machines, before jumping back on. “No needles,” he declared, and Law looked at him, deadpan, for as long as it took for Luffy to start to fidget.

 

“I am your doctor. You are a burn victim. You need fucking plasma and fluids, and the only way to get those things where they need to be is through a fucking needle,” he said, and grabbed Luffy’s arm. The boss frowned- pouted. They both knew that if Luffy actually wanted to, he could easily  fight it. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to incapacitate Law before he made a room, but Law was providing a service that was uncalled for but also invaluable. Luffy had no legs to stand on.

 

“What do we need to talk about,” he asked.

 

“Your payment,” he said, and Luffy frowned. “You’ll have to talk to my accountant.” Law shook his head. “I’m not looking for money, although I know your accountant is somewhere… distant these days. I’m looking for an alliance.”

 

Luffy’s eyebrows rose, but there was a promising expression on his features. 


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't completely finished the Dressrosa Arc, so the end of this is based more on hearsay and what I've read, so if I've got some of Law's back story wrong, sorry. Also, Luffy is supposed to be smarter, so he's slightly OOC.

Luffy left his care exactly three days later, with strict orders on his part to stay hydrated. Jinbei had dropped in the day before, looking wretched and covered in burns, but they were already treated and dressed. The fishman had been polite, and far more agreeable than Portgas, when he asked to see Luffy. Law had heard of his warlord status being revoked, but he seemed to be unaffected. 

 

He led him downstairs, to the recovery room where Luffy was once again feasting on jello and pudding and whatever else he could snatch from the kitchen. Even as Law walked in, he was unrepentant, swallowing what had to have been a gallon of chocolate sludge. “Jinbei!” he crowed, grinning. The fishman bore a similar expression, muttering niceties. He glanced at Law. 

 

“Torao? No, he’s okay. We formed an alliance!” the young boss exclaimed, and Law felt a headache growing, forming a knot right in his temple. Jinbei wasted no time demanding details, even trying to convince Luffy against it. That Law was using him. 

 

“He’s right,” Law piped up, rubbing his fingers into the ridges of his forehead. Surprise flashed across the fishman’s face for a moment, before harrumphing. “He even admits it! Why, Luffy, would you agree to such a relationship without consulting your men?” Luffy considered them, his lips slanted in an almost frown. 

 

“I know I’m being used, but isn’t that what an alliance is? An opportunity to use each other? I want to go after the Yonko, and I’m going to use Law, and his plan. He’s going to use me and my crew,” he declared, his face firm. “My crew trust me. And I trust Law.” Law felt his jaw drop. Ingratiating someone was one thing, but trust…

 

“You can’t be serious? You’ve known him for how many days? I know he saved you-”

 

“Jinbei! He helped my brother. He helped Hancock. He saved me, let me stay at his place and eat his food-” that was the exact word that the fishman started to give, resignation in the set of his mouth, “-I can at the very least trust him not to kill me, or my allies. And I’ve seen his reasons. I can trust him to try and kill Doflamingo more than anything.”

 

Jinbei was a sort of ashen, off-white. He exhaled deeply, and inhaled slowly. “Alright, Luffy, but we,” he glanced pointedly at Law, “Have to discuss the details of this… alliance and make sure both parties are satisfied. That is the only way Nami-san will approve of this,” he said. Luffy seemed to perk up, understanding dawning on him. He looked at Law, and nodded. Law sighed again, shrugging. It didn’t seem like it’d be hard at all to satisfy Luffy. 

 

As Law began explaining his plan, the steps that he had been developing for years, Jinbei listened patiently. When he finished, Jinbei was silent a moment. Luffy was looking at his friend, expectant. “You’ll have to become a warlord, first,” he said, and Law nodded, having already known that, “What exactly are you going to do to become that?” 

 

Law paused a moment, considering how they would react. Both were relatively innocent when it came to illegal involvement. “Send the government the hearts of my enemies, maybe around 100. With my power, they’ll still be alive and beating, but they can also be crushed, causing death. It’ll give the government power over quite a number of bosses and men with high bounties.” Neither seemed particularly disturbed. 

 

Jinbei nodded. “That would do it. But, you’ll need to learn Haki, both of you, if you’re going to survive Doflamingo and Kaido.” Luffy pursed his lips, slurping another spoonful of jello. “Like what Rayleigh did?” he asked. Law remembered that; right after Luffy had punched a Celestial Dragon, a man broke out of containment, and released a sort of pressure that had many of the guards collapsing. That man had turned to be Silvers Rayleigh. 

 

“Yes. There are three types of Haki…”

 

In the end, it was revealed that learning all three types of Haki would take, at the very least, a year. Law had to agree that if it was a staple among the New World bosses, it was an invaluable ability to even the playing field. Law revealed he had connections, to the Director in Chief and one of the directors, but he didn’t say that, and would learn from them. Luffy was going to learn from Rayleigh. 

 

And since all of Luffy’s crew was spread out, anyway, he would spread the word that they should lay low and build up their own strengths. They decided two years would be long enough. 

 

“What are your cell numbers,” Law asked, when Jinbei was just about to leave. Luffy blinked. “I don’t have a phone, but here,” he said, climbing off the bed and walking over to his own pants. He pulled out his wallet, and then a small business card. He handed it to him. 

 

It was a white card with a comic illustration of a lion, with the name Thousand Sunny inscribed onto it. Below was a phone number. “That’s our bars’ landline, and on the back in the line to my building,” he explained. Law couldn’t say he was surprised any more, so he simply nodded and slipped it into his own wallet. 

 

“I don’t have a phone either, but if you’d like I could give you our emergency radio frequency,” Jinbei suggested, and Law shook his head. “I’m sure you’ll be fine,” he replied, and the fishman left. Law went upstairs to attend the day clinic, and Luffy said he’d busy himself with getting in contact with his men. 

 

He left the next morning. 

 

~~~

 

Law expected not to see him for two years. That was a completely reasonable assumption, and yet, not two months later, he was back, drenched from the rain, and sporting a grievous puncture wound that seemed to have come from some incredibly large animal taking a bite out of his shoulder. He was alone, smiling, with a warm sort of glow that Law suspected to be trust. 

 

It’s not, Law told himself, even as starting biting his ear off, dragging him down stairs to the surgical suite. He just couldn’t let him die. Law was responsible, and he also knew that Luffy was no joke when it came to causing chaos. He needed that. 

 

He sewed him up, taking two hours and three pints of blood. He made Luffy stay the night, meanwhile chatting over mugs of hot chocolate that Penguin had brought down. 

 

“52 seasons? I guess you can never be too surprised about the things you’ll find in The Calm Belt,” he muttered, thinking of the neighborhoods that Kuzan and Sengoku had dragged him to. With his abilities, new environments were best, so he could raise his reaction time, so they claimed. It was definitely true he focused too much on his hands, so perhaps the rapid training and scenery would help his hand movements become more automatic. They were going to be leaving him at the end of the year, though, when Sengoku would announce his retirement. 

 

“Yeah, it’s pretty fun! There are plenty of weird animals, too, and they’re all like, the size of my apartment building! I met this lion guy, who gave me this,” he explained, gesturing to his wound, and Law frowned severely. “Do not put yourself at needless risk. I do have actual paying patients.” Luffy pouted, downing the rest of his second cup. 

 

“I don’t! Rayleigh suggested that making friends with the predators would be the best way to develop my Conqueror’s Haki. Animals have instincts that are much more sensitive than humans, so we’ll be able to tell immediately if they felt something! Not to mention, fighting animals somehow… helps it? I don’t understand it,” the younger boss explained, cavalier. Law rubbed at a growing ache in his neck. “Of course you don’t,” he muttered, shaking his head. 

 

If they talked well into the night, well, no one could say. There had been a  _ significant  _ amount of cocoa used, and then purchased, that night, however. 

 

~~~

 

He visited, once in awhile, every few weeks when he was mauled and maimed. He had plenty of wounds, all of them healing nicely under Law’s supervision, but only the one scar. They talked, too. He couldn’t understand why, because Law usually found even trying to communicate with someone who didn’t have a college diploma a headache and a half. Luffy was infamously dimwitted. He’d seen it up close and personal, when Luffy asked the most basic questions about Bepo’s accounting work that he sometimes spread around the kitchen table, or asked Penguin about making coffee or something. 

 

But Luffy observed, wise in a way only a kid could be. He was sharp enough to keep a conversation going, friendly enough that conversations somehow became a relationship. Luffy had managed befriended half his gang while he had his back turned. 

 

~~~

 

The time passed quickly. The Straw Hats were extremely distant, and while some met with eachother, Luffy really only got to see Sanji and Zoro, and maybe twice, Robin popped up, too. Law was introduced to them awkwardly, he had to say. He’d heard a lot about them from Luffy, but even his silly exaggerations didn’t do them justice. 

 

It had been a supple evening in May, when the sun was low and the sky was a soft shade of peach. The breeze had been perfectly warm, and the scents of early summer drifted through the clinic over the antiseptic fumes. The day had been peaceful, with only a few broken bones and a GSW that he patched up for one of Drake’s men. 

 

Law had even decided to indulge in a hard ice tea, a slice of lemon secured to the rim of a tall glass as he walked out to the small yard behind the clinic. There was a meager deck, and a plastic chair and table that he sat at. A book he’d bought ages ago,  _ The Picture of Dorian Gray, _ was tugged comfortably under his arm. 

 

Kuzan and Akainu had been battling without break for a few months now, so he hadn’t seen him, but Sengoku suddenly had all the time in the world to drill exercises into his body. His Observation Haki was nearly perfect, manifesting sometime during the first month. He’d been half there, already. He squeezed out the Conqueror’s Haki a few times a month, capable of felling a large herd of sheep. Hardening Haki was developing steadily. Law had pointedly avoiding asking about Luffy’s progress. Luffy was either failing horribly or blowing expectations out of the water, most of the time. It would be distracting either way. 

 

“It’s  _ this  _ way,” a gruff voice insisted, down the street. It sounded… familiar. 

 

“You idiot, we take a left. It clearly says it on my Den Den Mushi,” another man argued.

 

“Don’t order me around. You’ve just been dancing around for how many months?”

 

“Dan-  _ Dancing? _ How dare you! It’s hell! I’m not dancing, I’m running for my life- my innocence -from  _ transgender men _ . What are you doing? You’re goofing off with monkeys and that ghost girl.”

 

“Goofing off?”

 

“Oh, you don’t understand even a basic word like that?”

 

They could have been a comedy routine. They were already very close to his clinic. “We’re here,” the low voice declared, and just over the gate were the unmistakeable mugs of Luffy’s second and his chef. They were well known for the amount of destruction they caused, and the cost of reparations. He stood up. The two looked up at him, expressions of irritation fading. 

 

“Oi, it’s him. I was right,” Roronoa said, nonchalantly. Sanji howled in frustration. “You wanted to to turn right, every time! We just took a left.” Roronoa ignored him and addressed Law. Law set down his book. He probably wouldn’t open it for a number of years more. “We hear Luffy comes over sometimes. Is he here?” 

 

He sighed. Some lines apparently had to be drawn. Technically, it was true; Luffy had to be coming over every other week these days, but apparently that’d have to be cut back if Law’s place was to be a well known sanctuary for him. “No,” he replied. Roronoa studied him a minute. 

 

“Don’t worry. Luffy only told us about this place. And Robin, but she would have found out, anyway. We know about the alliance, too. We know how to hold our tongue,” he swore. It surprised him greatly, that Roronoa would assure him. Maybe he really was being too nice, if even Luffy’s gang was trusting him…

 

But, the Straw Hats trusted Luffy, just as he said, and Luffy trusted Law. Everything was fine. 

 

“Zoror? Sanji?”

 

They all turned to look at the front of the clinic, where Luffy was halfway over the gate. He was grinning widely, and hopped over to Law. A dark, bloody burlap sack was hung over his shoulder, bulging oddly and ridiculously large. “This is perfect! I was just coming over to get you guys!” he declared. Law could only stare dumbly at him, while the other two just seemed relieved to have him in sight. “Why?”

 

“A barbecue! I got a lot of hunting done-” Law looked him over, not really minding when he caught himself doing it, and noticed the smears of mud, the leaves and twigs sticking through his hair, and the dried blood caking his lower calves and hands. “-And I heard that this huge snake was a delicacy? I brought it!” Luffy slipped off the sack, and opened it up, revealing the head of a deceased albino snake. 

 

Law wanted to be upset. He really did. But the weather was truly perfect, and he thought he’d seen spits in the kitchen. Roronoa and Black Leg hopped over, into the yard, completely at peace trespassing. Luffy opened up a clinic window, looked around, and shouted that they were having a feast. The dozen or so members of his gang working quickly scurried out the back door.

 

Black Leg prepared a truly impressive meal, somehow turning a snake carcass with their pitiful tools into a delicious banquet. The Straw Hats thoroughly enjoyed themselves, and managed to drag the rest of his crew into a joking mood, as well, as they crowded around a bonfire. 

 

An emergency drew Law and most of his staff away around ten o’clock. There was an cardiac embolism in some senator, and they had to find it and get it out as soon as possible. When they got back, the non-emergency staff had knocked out in the day clinic, on couches or beds, and all the dishware had been cleaned and stacked neatly on one end of the sink. The spits and grill were returned to storage, and the fire had been reduced to embers. 

 

To his surprise, though Roronoa and Black Leg were nowhere to be seen, Luffy was still sitting by the fire, now wearing his second’s scarf. He poked at the fiery coals, even as he looked up at Law. 

 

He looked at him for a searching moment, before smiling. “You saved him,” it wasn’t a question. Law blinked. “You can’t know that,” he said, even though he was right. Luffy laughed, and picked up a mug. Law would bet it was hot chocolate. He couldn’t recall seeing the boss ever drink alcohol or smoke. As a doctor, he approved, but it was highly unusual for a boss. 

 

“I can see it,” he insisted, and offered him another mug. Law looked around, and saw the brightest stars peeking through the veil of light pollution. The moon was bright, though, and full. There was a tree in the neighboring yard that was in bloom, too. He plopped down next to him, close enough to feel the heat radiating off him, and took the mug. 

 

They sat together for another hour, chatting a little, before he dragged Luffy onto a spare bed in the storage room and he took the couch in his office again. 

 

~~~

 

Portgas tended to burst in, completely unannounced, every few months. He looked healthier than ever, though he was one of the New Whitebeard pirates’ co-bosses. Law didn’t really want to know how that system functioned, but they managed to maintain the majority of their territory despite the fall of Newgate himself. He also didn’t like Law that much, either, even when he crashed at the clinic. Luffy adored the visits, though, and he’d eat and wrestle and fight his brother for a full twenty four hours before he let him leave for his own gang again. From what Law understood, even as a stranger, they hadn’t had that before the war. They’d lived together for a number of years, but Portgas and Luffy went their separate ways five years ago, a distant sort of rivals that met only for the holidays. 

 

It was after one of these visits, cut short by an urgent call from Marco, that Luffy had curled up on the roof of the clinic for the night. Law wasn’t exactly used to it yet- how Luffy got anywhere and everywhere -but as his doctor and allied boss, he dragged up a quilt and a thermos of tea and plopped down next to him. 

 

From the roof, they couldn’t see much of the city, and what they could see was dirty and crumbling. The clinic was a modest two story building a decade old, by far the prettiest piece of stone on the block. The various buildings next door, tenements or factories or warehouses, all smudged with soot and illuminated grimly by the streetlamps. An occasional van passed, or a pedestrian, no doubt carrying. Luffy was silent. Law had never seen him so quiet, but eventually, after hours of their backs pressed against the brick of the chimney, he started talking. 

 

There had been another brother, once. Years ago. They’d grown up in the rural hills in the far eastern part of The Blues, where there was a dense forest. Bandits had somehow been given their guardianship- Law snorted -and they had to fight for every meal. After a while, they even made their own house up in a large tree, where they lived. Ace managed to snatch some sake from their guardian’s liquor cabinet, and after sharing  cup declared themselves brothers. 

 

They all had horrible families. Luffy only had his grandfather, and didn’t even know he had actual parents. Ace was the son of Gol D. Roger, and had still been hunted down and slurred for that heritage. He hated the man. Sabo was the mayor’s son, and used to live in a wealthy neighborhood nearby. He was abused regularly, before he ran away. Things happened, most of which Luffy couldn’t remember clearly. He mostly remembered all the tigers and alligators they had caught and ate, and the landfill that hundreds of homeless people had settled in, right outside Sabo’s town. 

 

Things happened. Luffy got hurt. Ace was spitting teeth. Sabo got locked up. He managed to get away, weaseled himself out of the house, and called up a taxi. He’d just been leaving, the little cab the only car on the street besides a monstrous line of black SUVs. The middle car’s back window rolled down, a gun peeked out, and shot up the taxi in the middle of the street. It crashed against a Stop sign, and shortly after combusted. No one was recovered. 

 

They never got to bury his body. 

 

When Ace had been captured, Luffy had remembered how they’d let Sabo get caught by his own family, and he told Ace as much. 

 

Luffy drifted off after that, and Law took it upon himself to lug them down to the clinic. He’d been so close to spilling Cora-san’s name, sharing the horrors of Flevance. He should’ve shared why he was so set on this alliance, and on attacking Doflamingo, but he couldn’t. Not yet, when they still hardly knew each other, but Law would. 

 

~~~

 

He saw Roronoa a few more times, and Black Leg, too, and met Robin once, who had such infallible grace and composure Law asked her point blank what she was doing with the Straw Hats. She had laughed at him, and he knew some of her history; about her years in hiding, and the bounty on her head. “They’re fun,” she told him, as she watched Luffy play around with his trumpet from where he sat on a river bed. Somehow, he’d been dragged off to a surprise picnic, next to a river an hour outside the city. It was the first time since the penthouse that Law saw him with his trumpet. 

 

He looked serious, dangerous even, as he studied his fingers, and how they waggled over keys. 

 

“You’ll see, maybe, that Luffy’s the most fun you’ll find in this world of ours.” She was enigmatic, and distinctly unsettling. As Law drove home, well into the afternoon, he tried to think of a single thing he’d learned about her, and that was it. NicoNico Robin was a terrifying person. 

 

~~~

 

It was a few months out before the Straw Hats would reunite, when he finished collecting hearts for his offering. He sent them in a plain, wooden shipping container, and took much delight in watching as the expressions of the police officers twisted in disgust and horror. Not a day later, the entire underground couldn’t shut up about it. A week later, he was declared a Warlord. 

 

Luffy showed up the next morning, handing him a congratulatory box of dango, half empty. He also got a phone call from Doflamingo that unsettled him so much he closed the clinic for the day and headed off to a distant run down gym to work off his anger. His Hardening Haki proved to be just about perfect. 

 

~~~

 

Finally, when the final month rolled around, there was that headache of assembling them all. The gang was so small, Law thought it’d be simple for them all to meet up at a set location. It wasn’t. Quite a few of them came in hot, and there was that whole fiasco with the imposters. At the very least, it showed how much they had all grown. 

 

Luffy claimed that he had told everyone to meet back up at the bar, the Thousand Sunny, and had eagerly dragged Law to the place a half mile across town. It was the same bar Penguin and Shachi had followed him to. It was a small enterprise, with a bright red and yellow color scheme, and the same Lion insignia he’d seen on Luffy’s business card so long ago. He walked in, prepared for anything. 

 

The first thing he saw the enormous aquarium behind the bar counter, casting an austere blue glow over the room. Warm toned lamps sat on the tables and against the walls, but most were turned off in favor of the natural, golden light coming in through the large display windows. A woman was cleaning martini glasses, looking slightly familiar, but Law couldn’t place it. “Hey, Shakki!” Luffy greeted, grinning, and jumping onto a stool like he was an old friend. He probably was. “Hey, Monkey-chan,” she said, and slid him a glass of something purple. Rayleigh walked in from one of the side doors, his lips stretched into a wide grin. “It’s already been two years, huh?” he said. Law felt painfully awkward, and slowly walked up to a stool. 

 

Shakki smiled at him, distinctly threatening. “Torao-chan, was it? Nice to finally meet you,” she greeted, and it sent shudders down Law’s spine. “What’ll you be having?” 

 

“Water is fine,” he said quickly. Shakki shrugged, filling a glass with ice and tap water. Rayleigh laughed at him, and slapped his shoulder. “Don’t worry, you’ll fit right in,” he promised, and that was even more terrifying given the gang’s insanity. 

 

Luffy popped up from his seat, and looked at Law urgently. “I forgot! I have to show you around!” he declared, and once again took his arm in a vice and pulled him through all the back doors. The closest one was a well stocked kitchen, and a storage room. Another was a very well stocked library with various histories, atlases, engineering manuals, cookbooks, and a shocking store of priceless medicinal records, journals, and textbooks. Begrudgingly he was dragged to an engineering room that hooked up to a garage, and then an office and spare bedroom, all on the first floor. The second floor had an infirmary, records room, a small workout room, and Luffy’s personal favorite, instrument storage. The room was packed with amps, chords, mics and mic stands, a sound board or two, a keyboard, drum set, bass, and a collection of cased instruments that Law couldn’t identify. 

 

“We left the baby grand downstairs when we decided on splitting up longer, so a guy could come in sometimes, but usually most of this is already set up downstairs,” Luffy explained, and took a moment to touch a nearby soundboard. Law wondered how much he could have practiced, training in the violent forests of Rusakania. Moments later, they were walking back down the stairs.

 

Roronoa was unsurprisingly the first one to arrive, an hour later. He hung around the bar, and him and Luffy talked, chatting with Rayleigh and the bartender and temporary manager, Shakki. That had been day one. On day three he met Nami. She was gorgeous, one could say, with a daring fashion sense and natural endowments. He had told Luffy, or Roronoa more accurately, to call him when another one showed up. Unfortunately she had stayed just long enough to take a look at the bar’s books and hug them all before throwing herself into a shopping spree. Law arrived, ten minutes later, dismayed. 

 

“Just come and have a drink,” Shakki called, and Law, looking at Luffy’s almost hopeful expression, sat down on the stool next to him and ordered a rum and coke. Nami came back three hours later with an alarming number of bags, which she set aside in a back room. She plopped down beside him, and looked him over with a familiar cold, calculating stare. “You better be careful,” she warned him, “If you think you’ll walk away from a betrayal, you have another thing coming.” She ordered a margarita. 

 

“Well, I’ve known him only two years, and I’ve had to replace almost everything I own. I don’t think I could afford a betrayal,” he replied, because he knew that Nami was not only an accountant, but also dirt cheap. She snarked a laugh at that. “Good.”

 

Next came in Usopp, who’d been rightfully cautious. He’d sat on the opposite end of Law, and whispered rapidly with Shakki, who appeared endlessly amused. It took him until they were all leaving that he saddled up to him, looking physically stronger than pictures from two years prior, but still shaking in his boots. “You treat Luffy right!” he hissed, a few feet away. Law looked around him. “Yes, I’m talking to you! Be prepared, if you’re using us, you’ll be getting mustard seeds up the shoot for a month!” Usopp was a known pathological liar and prankster. Law was almost curious if he’d really do it or not, but instead fixed him with a steady stare. “I have. I’ve treated him countless times, in fact, while he trained,” he said. The way Luffy had talked about the sniper suggested he respected people more on actions or gestures. Usopp stopped shaking, and nodded at him, jogging to catch up to Nami. 

 

Luffy might have grinned at him, over his shoulder. 

 

Brook, honestly, was someone Law was half sure was Luffy’s imaginary friend. He was a fellow musician, but tended toward the classical or contemporary violin. He was also, and he quotes, ‘A seven foot tall skeleton with an afro, who likes to ask about panties.’ If not for official records of an eighth member of the crew with the name Brook, Law would have disregarded the figure. 

 

Instead, there was a skeleton standing in the bar doorway, looking at them all. He was dressed in outrageously colored feathers and sunglasses, and a shark shaped guitar was strapped over of neck. He strummed a chord, and Luffy’s face lit up. “You’re playing jazz these days?” The skeleton nodded, crowing an odd sort of laugh, before the two of them jumped into a jargon filled conversation about sevenths and suspended fourths. 

 

Law was frankly stunned. He never thought Luffy was capable of such an… intelligent conversation. It should be expected given his profession, but Luffy didn’t compute with being able to understand all the mysteries of music theory. 

 

Brook had a concert, apparently, and bowed out without a drink an hour later. He did spare a moment to walk up to him, after conversing with Shakki, with what was probably a smile. “Yohoho! I’ve heard we’ll be working with you, Law-san! Welcome aboard, I’m sure everyone else hasn’t, really,” he said, shaking his hand vigorously before he left.  

 

Then tumbled in Franky, the next day, the cyborg architect-engineer who had built the Thousand Sunny. Law couldn’t tell the difference between when he was making a joke, or serious, so he ignored him up until the man brought up his warlord status. Usopp shuddered, and Nami seemed distressed. 

 

“He needs it, so everything goes down smooth,” Luffy explained, in that half neutral, expectant sort of way. Franky nodded, and was already changing the subject. Franky was, though irritating, the easiest to understand and work with. 

 

Then it started getting weird. 

 

An imposter group opened up shop a block away, and Dr. Chopper ended up going to that, instead. Black Leg, who had been delayed by Ivan, ended up sidetracked, and Robin had decided to scout out what was happening, since Brook had to attend his last concert and the imposters were recruiting.  Roronoa lost himself, again, and him and Sanji bumped into each other and caused a scene. Dr. Chopper ran to the Sunny scared and in tears, while Law was trying to find his fellow boss. Robin just sort of laughed at all of them. 

 

Eventually, after Luffy got dragged into the imposters’ rally, he took them out in a show of Haki. He, Roronoa, and Black Leg ended up disturbing a police raid, who’d been using those state of the art androids. Brook had to explosively bail out of the concert hall, with a little help from Robin.

 

Law told himself he should have expected it.

 

That night though, they were at the Thousand Sunny, where Law met Dr. Chopper, who had to be his favorite so far. He was meek, knowledgeable, and professional. He was loyal, too, despite his fear (“I-I-I hear-heard about tho-those hearts… y-you won’t d-d-do th-that to u-us, right?”). Perhaps he was a bit more naive and childish, but Law saw those as good things. 

 

~~~

 

There were a lot of things to regret. 

 

He wanted to regret sitting at the Thousand Sunny for hours, everyday since, sipping a beer and listening to Luffy. 

 

The band back at the penthouse, so long ago, had been meek, boring. Luffy played like he was hungry, starving for something, anything, everything. For all the headaches he caused, planning escapes routes and entry points, he made up for it in the way he played out the stress. 

 

There were days his trumpet was hoarse, run ragged by the fire he spat through it. 

 

Some days, he blew out liquid gold, the sort that melted into your ear. 

 

Occasionally, there was a day that he was hostile, spewing attacks on the ear, the likes that played upon every agonizing scenario there was. 

 

Law loved all those days, even when he should have been restless, waiting for the operation to start. He should have been angsting to kill Doflamingo, after all these years. 

 

~~~

 

It took a couple of weeks to track down the SAD manufacturing facility, mostly because it had changed half a dozen times over their two year break. It was during those weeks, almost immediately after all the Straw Hats were accounted for, that Law closed up the clinic and sent his men to Zoa. They were mostly doctors and nurses, with only Bepo and Jean Bart having any sort of Haki, but that was needed to protect them from Doflamingo should he discover their position. 

 

Then, they could seige the factory run by Caesar Clown. The Plant ended up in middle of Kuzan’s and Akainu’s battle of succession, Punk Hazard. Luckily, he was able to slip in without notice, as a warlord, and approached Caesar with a deal. He took it. That part went fine. It was when the Straw Hats had to come in that everything went awry, and somehow a dragon, a samurai, and Smoker’s unit all ended up trapped in the factory, too. That was only the first day.

 

It was three days later that they all walked out, Law pleased at Vergo’s defeat and Caesar in chains. He has no idea how that happened, especially when everything went to hell after that petrifying gas. 

 

Somehow, though, all the Straw Hats were walking away alive, with several dozen more allies than they started with. Law stopped thinking about it. He was going to get an aneurysm if he tried to comprehend the logistics and alliances, so he let himself be dragged by Luffy to a snowy log, where Black Leg was making a huge pot of soup. They were on Kuzan’s side, so everyone was covered in blankets and parkas, and food was becoming a very real need. Not twenty minutes later, they had bowls in their hands, and were chewing on a beautifully seasoned stew. An unexpected plus of their alliance; Law had never eaten so well or so healthily. 

 

Law didn’t notice when they had leaned into each other, Luffy’s side pressed flushed against his. He was warm, and Law knew how the body worked. It naturally shifted to warmth, when in a cold environment, so he didn’t have a problem with it. Luffy probably hadn’t even noticed, though he was unusually contained. Normally, he’d be all over the place, even in subzero weather. Instead, they sitting together, hip to hip and knee to knee, they’re faces close enough that wisps of wild hair occasionally brushed Law’s nose and his stubble sometimes grated against Luffy’s ear. It was all completely biological, of course.  

 

~~~

 

Law’s crew had already left. The clinic was closed. 

 

Normally, he’d stay in his apartment, a distant place he never stayed in long enough to dirty, or learn how to work the stove. 

 

However, Doflamingo will want him dead, particularly when he’ll wake in the morning to the nightmare they left in Punk Hazard, so Law couldn’t go back to his apartment, either. The warlord was the sort of man that didn’t care if the target died by his hand or by a bomb.  

 

Instead, he had been going to rent out a motel room, moving around every few nights, just in case, until they had Doflamingo incapacitated. Somehow, Robin caught wind of this, and pulled him aside when they met up at the Sunny for a debriefing. “There’s a spare room at the Sunny,” she said, glancing at the door that no one used. “Shakki sometimes uses it, or one of us if we get kicked out our apartments. Drunks, too. The sheets are changed out regularly, though. Not to mention, Luffy and Zoro live across the street, and they have room, too,” she said. He didn’t like the way she smiled at him when she brought up Luffy, but Law decided he’d feel the safest with two of his strongest peers in the rooms next door, instead of in an empty bar. 

 

“I think I’ll ask Luffy,” he said, and Robin patted him on the shoulder. “Good choice.” Luffy of course was thrilled. Law had never been to their apartment, but he expected it was going to be dirty and covered with month old food. He told himself it’d be better than a flimsy motel room. 

 

The debrief was short. It was late enough that they would call Doflamingo up the next morning (only a few hours away), and be caught unawares. Law had set up a containment unit near the bar, and through a series of rock-paper-scissors, it was decided Zoro would keep watch. He stared at him grimly. “Don’t go into my room.” Law nodded. That was perfectly acceptable. He dragged Caesar, and the heads of Baby 5 and Buffalo (who’d been sedated) out shortly after, and they all dispersed. 

 

Luffy and him crossed the street, went up the elevator, and stopped at a more or less clean apartment, much to his surprise There was an abused, leather couch sitting in front of a large TV, with a kitchen unit to the side, and a bathroom across from it. On the right were two bedrooms, with a window in between them. “Do you want the pull out or my bed?” Luffy asked, and Law shrugged. “Pull out.” 

 

They pulled out the folded mattress, and Law forced himself to properly tuck in all the linens and fold the blankets. Finally, he was sliding under the covers. Luffy slid in next to him. He frowned, and turned to glare at him. Kind of. He was pretty tired. “You have your own room.”

 

“But I want to watch something,” Luffy insisted. Law made a general sort of groan. It was three in the morning and they’d barely gotten any sleep for three days. Law had no idea how he would manage to stay awake, but he found the controller and opened up Netflix. He picked a random Medical Drama. It was good, with nice acting and accurate terminology. Perhaps things were a little too serendipitous, and weepy, but Law liked it. He turned to Luffy to ask if he’d seen it before, but he’d already fallen asleep, clinging onto his arm like a vine. 

 

Law studied him closely for a minute. He should pull him off. Gently, maybe. But he was tired, and could still feel the Punk Hazard’s frigid winds digging into his skin. He turned off the TV and let himself drift to sleep. 

 

~~~

 

Law had left a customized Den Den Mushi waiting in the middle of an abandoned lot, right between the factory and Dressrosa, next to Baby 5 and Buffalo’s heads. He left them gagged, and might have smiled, just a little bit, when he left them for Doflamingo the next morning. When he got back to the Thousand Sunny, the crew had all assembled, sipping coffee or tea and eating their breakfast. For them, Law realized, they were stiffer than they’d usually be in the morning. To a normal person, they appeared lax for a group about to declare war on a warlord. 

 

Law set on the furthest stool from ruckus, beside Robin, and waited. Behind the counter, Shakki slid in a large cup of coffee, and he quietly thanked her for it. A few minutes later, a platter of eggs, hashed potatoes, and various caramelized slices of meat appeared in front of him. He looked up and Sanji was already walking away, but Robin had a sly sort of smile on her lips as she ate. 

 

It couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes- mercifully filled with the crew’s banter as they talked about their time separated. When the snail started ringing, however, all conversation halted. Luffy’s mouth, half open as he shoveled in another plateful of eggs into his mouth, slowly closed. He waited a moment, for Cora-san, and to compose himself. He’d thought about this conversation a hundred times, had each word scripted to produce the right tone. 

 

He answered it, a dark grin on his face as he hissed out the damned man’s name. 

 

“ _ Law,” _ the man spat right back. 

 

Doflamingo had not been happy. The secured line had been open for all of thirty seconds, as the warlord became increasingly incensed, in his own way. 

 

Law was immensely proud to realize he’d never heard the man to be so unhinged. 

 

The next day, the paper would come, smeared with Doflamingo’s disgrace. Law was certain of that. The Straw Hats couldn’t have been happier, and Luffy had managed to drag everyone into a party for the victories at the days before, and of Doflamingo agreeing to their terms. Sanji started mass producing brunch-like items, and Luffy and his crowd of over excited men entertained themselves with eating and pranks. The women were privately amused, in a corner, so Law approached them. 

 

“Excuse me,” he said, and they looked up from their drinks. Sanji might have furiously spun around to glare at him, but Law couldn’t tell for sure. He ended up tripping over one of Luffy’s stretched out legs. “I thought it’d be best if we discussed our plans in Dressrosa as soon as possible.” Nami and Robin shared a look, one that had no doubt drawn Luffy’s interest in the first place. 

 

“Of course,” Nami said, and gestured at a table not far away, “I’ll go get the maps I have of the place.” She stood and walked through a back door. From his tours of the place,  he knew that to be the stairs, and she’d probably head for the records room, where they also kept detailed information about customers and their habits. It had been quite disturbing. 

 

He and Robin moved to the table, and not a few minutes later she came down with an arm full of rolled up papers and a thick, pulp printed book that she dropped square in the center of the table. It had travels guides, traffic routes, and an entire section dedicated to the town’s mayor of ten years, Donquixote Doflamingo himself. Law was fairly impressed. The other, larger maps she brought were blueprints of the mayor’s office, dated two years ago, and of a few other landmarks that were relevant (like a MMA stadium- only Doflamingo would be able to justify government funding on a fighting arena of all things). 

 

They talked about different streets and parking lots and routes, various backup exits from the drop point, and then various capos under the warlord. Law gave them everything he had on their abilities, and Robin added where she could. She’d been oddly cagey about where exactly she’d been, but she had revealed she’d been working with the revolutionists, a large faction throughout the city that opposed the government. Law had no doubt she was thoroughly up to date on the inner workings of all government related faculties, and likely any major gangs as well. 

 

The feast had been winding down when Portgas crashed through the door. In hindsight, Law was surprised it had taken him that long. The front doors had been locked, with the closed sign flipped forward, but Portgas obviously had a key, hastily unlocking it before swinging into the bar. They all sort of froze as the Fire Fist looked around and found his brother. “Luffy!” 

 

About thirty minutes of wrestling, shouting, and episodes narcolepsy later, Portgas had settled down next to his brother, taking long swills of beer. “Y’all are really gunning for Kaido, then,” he sighed, looking resigned. Luffy chuckled behind him, “And eventually Big Mom, Blackbeard, and Shanks, too!” he declared. Portgas shook his head, but didn’t seem to be surprised. 

 

“Well, the New Whitebeard pirates offer whatever aid we can give outside of actual manpower. Besides me. I’m going to be right on your ass every second of the way and make sure that flamingo bastard doesn’t take your head,” Portgas declared, and the entire crew heartened at that. 

 

~~~

 

The next morning, the newspaper read-

 

_ Donquixote Doflamingo- Resigns as Mayor and Warlord?! _

 

-and Law couldn’t have been happier. 

 

~~~

 

Things had been going too well. Law should have seen that. Perhaps the Straw Hats (and the odd Samurai they’d picked up and let tag along) were a little too spread out, but they hadn’t been attacked and Caesar was still safely in his custody. They’d crossed the iron bridge fairly easily, as well. 

 

He had no way of knowing that Black Leg had already been seduced by a random flamenco dancer. 

 

Or that Fujitora and Bastille were already in Dressrosa, looking for the Straw Hats. 

 

He definitely didn’t know that Luffy and Portgas had joined a ‘gladiatorial’ themed tournament last minute, drawn in after seeing Burgess sign up. Or that they’d befriended the granddaughter of the former mayor.

 

Nor did he know that Robin and Usopp had been dragged into a subterranean village and met little fairy people. 

 

So it had been fairly out of the blue when Black Leg called him up on his Den Den Mushi and explained how Doflamingo had managed to fake the government sponsored newspapers, a minute before the drop off. Fujitora showed up, quickly followed by Doflamingo. 

 

That’s when everything went to hell. Again. 

 

They fought, Fujitora destroying quite a bit of the lush Green Bit park, situated in the middle of a lake. He managed to hold them off long enough for Sanji to pick up Caesar, and was then flung several blocks. He cushioned his land, barely, and was then shot, multiple times. He knew vaguely what direction he’d been sent, but then he heard Luffy screaming his name. He was surprised at how upsetting that was. 

 

And then he blacked out.

 

(Later he’d learn that Luffy had scrambled to get out of the stadium, and he and Portgas had actually met up with their long deceased brother, Sabo. Sabo ended up switching places with Portgas, and another revolutionist switched Luffy. She was also a female, so Law couldn’t figure out how that worked, but apparently the crowd bought it. Then followed a lot of running around and fighting no one could keep track of.)

 

He woke up cuffed to the heart chair, and his back burned against it. He squirmed a little, despite the weakness that clung to his arms and ghosted up to his shoulders, down his torso. His wounds looked worse than they actually were, despite how much pain they caused. The bullets had gone straight through, and hadn’t done any internal damage that Law could feel. Doflamingo leered at him, infinitely pleased at how well he had tricked him. An elderly man was cuffed to a rail on the wall beside him, beat up and looking sour. It was shortly revealed he was the former mayor Riku. 

 

Law suspected strongly he was going to die. They’d failed. He whispered Cora-san’s name like a prayer, trying to will himself to sit up, think, look for a way out. There wouldn’t be, though, he knew. Luffy popped into his head. Law told himself that he was insane and reckless, and that even after Law died, he’d destroy all of Dressrosa, at least. 

 

And then he kept thinking of his scream, echoing in his ears. He thought about the Thousand Sunny, and the wonders that he made through his trumpet. He thought about the painfully domestic days he spent hanging around Luffy and Zoro’s apartment, playing Mortal Combat or actually sparring somewhere. He had discovered the Straw Hat’s main vice were the fight clubs they ran, so they often ventured into one of those padded basements they owned all over the city. 

 

He should be thinking of Bepo, Penguin, Shachi, the clinic, Cora-san-

 

Trebol called. 

 

Sugar had been knocked out. Law gawked, because Sugar was the one clog that all of Doflamingo’s enterprises hinged on. The warlord ran to the window of the mayor’s house, and Law watched as he fists clenched, bleaching white. He couldn’t see much, restrained to a chair, but he could see the yellow glow rising up from the town. All the toys were turning back into humans. 

 

Luffy snuck in, or at least attempted to, with a key. 

 

The situation was looking up at last.

 

~~~

 

Law told himself it was because they were allies, or friends as Luffy repeatedly declared, that he shared what had happened with Cora-san. He let himself remember the tragedy of Flevance and the horrors of working under the Donquixote family. 

 

And then Luffy let him finish him off. 

 

Law discovered they had accumulated quite the gathering of allies over the course of the day. 

After the fires were put out, with no help from Portgas, they all regrouped for a gigantic feast on Sunflower Hill, and somewhere in the confusion a number of infamous bosses had sworn themselves into becoming part of a great alliance under Luffy. 

 

Law had mostly retired to a corner of the plateau, where it was quiet and had a view of all the destruction Dressrosa had suffered. It was billions in damages, and it’ll take years of fanning the economy before it was even a fraction as wealthy as it was the day before. Luffy wasn’t actually that far away, close enough that Law could watch him. He was drinking with his brothers, all of whom were still crying and hugging. Luffy’s gang were scattered around, making friends with all their new allies. 

 

A couple of hours into the night, and the bonfires were dying. The crowd had cut in half, so Law convinced himself to stand up and saunter over to where Luffy had settled with his brothers. Despite how hard he fought, and the bandages that he was covered with, he still glowed. The fire lit up his face, his eyes sparkling as he talked with his brother. Law felt himself relax, just as he turned his head enough to see him. Luffy looked positively pleased to see him. “There you are, Torao! I was looking for you,” he said. Law smiled, slightly, and sat across from him, since his brothers were glued to his sides. 

 

Portgas was hostile, but Sabo looked relatively open. He sighed. “We still have to head over to Zoa and pick up my men,” he reminded him, and Luffy nodded. “I remember. Sanji, Nami, Brook and Chopper went over to Zoa hours ago, they should be coming back soon…”

 

An hour later, they did, all of which harried and worse for the wear, with  _ Drought  _ on their heels. Law groaned, rubbing his face, and stretched his arms. Very few seemed actually frightened, particularly when the three most dangerous brothers, probably ever, charged him. Law knew he should annoyed or despairing, but instead he chuckled, because he trusted Luffy. He would win.  

 

~~~

 

It was five in the morning when they were finally trudging back their individual cars or apartments. Even though he had his crew now, Law didn’t think about not following Luffy and Zoro to the hinky dinky flat two miles away. He’d been living there for weeks, waking up to Luffy and Zoro arguing over the channel, or Luffy practicing on his horn before the sun had even risen, or Zoro practicing katas or meditating. They’d take turns using the shower, and then they’d head down to the bar where Sanji was already busy making breakfast. That’s what the Straw Hats did. They all crawled out of the dark spaces they called their homes and gathered for breakfast, lunch and dinner, like clockwork. 

 

Bepo, though, was confused. 

 

“Boss, where are you going?” he asked, and the rest of his gang all paused, looking back at their leader. Law was honestly confounded. None of the Straw Hats were particularly surprised, and most of his own crew had just as quickly started back on their way to their apartments. Law looked at Luffy, who was completely neutral. Well, more like vague. 

 

He decided he liked Luffy’s face. The way his mouth stretched, and the scar under his eye that wrinkled when he smiled. He liked the messy nest of hair that smelled like sunshine and burnt leaves. 

 

“I’ve got things, still, at Luffy’s place,” he said, and ignored Zoro’s offhand ‘ _ You mean my place’. _ “Lots of things.” Bepo was still confused though, so Shachi sighed, took one for the team, and saddled up next to their accountant. He took him by the shoulder, and lead him away, whispering things at a languid pace. There was a sharp, disbelieving yip, and then Bepo was looking between Law and Luffy, and then back at Shachi. Law furrowed his brows, concerned. What exactly was he telling him...

 

“Are you sure?” he hissed, and a few men might have laughed, distantly. “Yes,” Shachi solemnly replied, “I am sure.” And his gang dispersed into the wind. He’d give them a few days off, before reopening the clinic. 

 

The Straw Hats treated him like he was family, nudging him, joking, spreading their insanity as they rode in their van. Law decided he liked it, now, and wasn’t that a terrifying thought. Zoro was driving, and dropped off the rest of the Straw Hats. Most lived in run down apartments, but Dr. Chopper lived with an esteemed doctor and Brook seemed to live in a hut by an aquarium. Eventually, Zoro parked in their buildings sublevel parking lots. 

 

They climbed into the elevator, and they rose up to the highest level. Zoro immediately went to his room, and shut the door behind him. Law considered a shower, and decided he didn’t have the energy. 

 

He was just about to collapse on the couch, still unmade from the morning before, when Luffy dragged them both to his room, where bits of food and old cans littered the floor. The laundry was neat, though, and his glass case of trumpet paraphernalia and jazz items was spotless. What appeared to be a set of ten mouthpieces, different materials and shapes, were set in blue felt, and three trumpets, one brass and the other two nickel plated hung above them. They were all impeccably polished, without a dent or scratch. Keys and weights and grip guards filled one drawer, and the one beside it held a truly terrifying number of mutes. The shelves below featured a record player, with Luffy’s favorite album still set inside, the needle at the end of the disk. The rest were filled with colorful albums, music theory exercises, and method books for concert trumpet and jazz alike. 

 

Luffy set the needle back to the beginning, and flipped it on. The sultry sound of Dizzy Gillespie filled the room, and Luffy dragged Law down into the bed, so they laid together. 

 

Law, through all his exhaustion, startled. 

 

Law was asexual. He could compromise, some, but all his former partners had agreed to that. He also had the bad habit of assuming people already knew that. 

 

“Wait, I’m not- I don’t… have sex,” he stumbled, because he had made far too many rooms to be healthy. He still wanted the warm, soft rubber man beside him as they watched medical dramas while they shared hot cocoa. He wanted the beautiful croon of a trumpet, shifting from insane to melancholic between a chord. He wouldn’t deny that. 

 

Law hadn’t bothered to think heavily about their relationship. To him, it had started out as an alliance, and even as Luffy forcibly turned it into something else, he hadn’t bothered renaming it. It had just happened. It had been so natural, and now Luffy would want to have sex because he had been oblivious and stupid- 

 

Except, as Luffy looked at him, he was neither aroused nor expectant. He snuggled up into his chest, threw the covers over them, and Law couldn’t breath. 

 

“You don’t want to-?”

 

Luffy looked up at him, with sleepy eyes and a fond little smile. “Sex is gross. You think so, too, right?” he asked. He nodded stiffly. Luffy stretched his head up just enough to ghost a kiss on his cheek, grinning. “Then we’re good.”

  
As relieved as he was to hear that, he was far too exhausted to continue that conversation. “We’re going to talk about this later,” he promised, because they’re not going to wake up until late afternoon. Luffy hummed, and despite the looming threat of Kaido and Big Mom, they fell asleep peacefully, to the gentle cry of Dizzy Gillespie. 


End file.
